Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies
by City Kid
Summary: Lizzie thought she knew who she was - until she discovered a secret that threatened to drive her to the grave. *UPDATED 6/3/03: Seven is up!*
1. Prologue

A/N: I hope this story turns out the way that I wanted it to. Actually, it's my first one, so I don't know what everyone will think of it - hopefully something good! ^_^; I'm making this story out to be kind of Supernatural/Angst. Sorry to say that I won't be using Miranda in this story as much as I had planned, but I think it will turn out well; I'll leave that for you to decide!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, although, I'm begging Disney like crazy . .  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Prologue  
  
Curious, I strode towards it. It had been standing there - cold, grey, and untouched for what seemed like nearly a decade. Its long, old-fashioned lettering had indicated that the person who was buried underneath of it had been of an early age. It was almost as if I could feel what those letters were trying to say to me; like a realm of unspoken words through a midst of code-lettering.  
  
'Code lettering'?  
  
That's absurd, I thought to myself. Letters on a gravestone do not have code-lettering. But I was wrong. Gently, ever so gently, I bent down, tracing my gloved finger along the dark and lonely engravements.  
  
Avril Scarborough : 1967-1983.  
  
Did she have any idea that she would die so young? Did she have any idea at all?  
  
No, of course not. No one knows when they're going to die. I could feel the soles of my feet getting tired from supporting my weight. Standing up from the ground, I didn't take my eyes off of that gravestone. A wave of nausea had washed over me, and I could feel that suddenly, but ever so softly, a single teardrop was cascading down my pinkened face.  
  
The evening's wind closed in on the grave and I, sending a haunting chill down the back of my spine. Pulling my coat up to the middle of my cheeks, I could feel the single tear that was still lingering on my face battle against the howling voices of the gentle breeze.  
  
Plastering on a warming smile, acting as if nothing had ever happened, I made my way towards the night-stricken house, where I knew that Gordo and Nanna would be waiting for me.  
  
A/N: Well, how did you like it? This is my first attempt on writing a Lizzie McGuire story; can you tell? ^-^; Anyway, ideas, criticism, and REVIEWS are always welcome. If I get some reviews, I'll know whether to continue with my story or not. Until then - Arrivederci! 


	2. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, although, I'm begging Disney like crazy . .  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter One  
  
Last night I visited the house again. It looked as it did ten years ago, when I had dreamed about it more often. It was tall, almost mansion-like, with three stories of dull paned windows and a shingled roof. I don't remember much of the rememberances of it at all, except for the front porch with its streaming white curtains, like silkened white wings billowing in the breeze. I could almost remember staying there on that very same porch, late at night, watching the silent talkings of crickets and locusts.  
  
The door to the house was locked this time. I remember waking up from my sleep because I was trying so hard to open it. Something or someone was trying to keep me out. Was something in there that I wasn't supposed to know about? Was someone in the house that needed some kind of help? I couldn't stay long enough to find out - I had a strong feeling that whatever was on the other side of that door was trying hard to keep me away.  
  
I awoke in a dreary daze, half because of the dream, and half because of the blazing sun piercing its rays through the glass of my windows. Yawning, I sat up in bed, my tiny wisps of blonde hair dangling in the front of my face. A part of my dream was missing. My last piece of the never-ending puzzle was still trapped inside of something - perhaps that something was me. Why did mornings have to come so soon, and why did Miranda still have to be in Mexico?  
  
"I'm not going," I said as my mother poured my brother and I a glass of ice cold orange juice. Her forehead crinkled up, and from the expression that was pasted on her face, I knew that she had won the argument. For any sort of luck, I turned to my father, who was reading the daily newspaper.  
  
"Dad, why do I have to go? I need some kind of re-assurance here." I tipped his newspaper down so that his eyes were facing mine. His warm smile that he made towards me almost made me think that he would help my mother reconsider. Boy, was I ever wrong.  
  
"For your mother's sake," he stated, taking a sip from his black coffee mug and then again focusing on his daily news.  
  
The happily written greeting from my grandmother hadn't helped the matters, either. It was as if I was an inconvenience to her; a mere mandatory ritual that was never really ritualistic in the first place.  
  
' Dear Elizabeth,  
  
This summer I will be seeing you at Scarborough House.  
  
I have enclosed a full paid check for airfare.  
  
Regards,  
  
Helene Scarborough '  
  
Finally, my younger brother, Matt, piped up from eating his cereal. He didn't really say much in the mornings; that I was greatly thankful for.  
  
"You're lucky she even acknowledged you. She probably doesn't even realize that she has a grandson." He emphasized on the word 'grandson'.  
  
I turned to both of my parents with a look of anger and impatience. "Mom, Matt's right for once. "Nanna" disowned you, and she disowned Dad. She hasn't had anything to do with me or Matt, so why should I be going to visit a relative that I hardly even know about, or even want to know about for that matter?"  
  
Once again, I was defeated. My mother set down her coffee cup and came to my side of the counter. She placed one arm around my shoulder and reached her other around Matt's. She hugged us close, saying, "I know it's hard for you two to deal with something like this. I've tried many of times to convince her otherwise, but all of my letters are either sent back to me or never replied to. I don't know why she's acting like this, Lizzie, but maybe this experience will teach you a little something about your grandmother. Something that I've wanted to learn for many years."  
  
What did she mean by that? It looked like my mother was getting spacey again. She tended to do that sometimes, so I brushed it off, giving her a fake smile; which I knew down inside wasn't ever going to work with her.  
  
"If it makes you feel any better, you *can* take Gordo with you if you'd like," Dad chimed in. Gordo? It wasn't half of a bad idea, after all. At least I would be with someone I actually *knew*. Hell, it was a great idea. Who was I kidding? Without hesitation, I looked towards my mother with angst, who was nodding to me with agreement.  
  
"We've already sat down and talked with him and his parents because your father and I had a feeling that you weren't going to do this alone. He's agreed to come with you on one condition, though."  
  
"What might that be?" I asked, seeing Matt from the corner of my eye making puckered noises towards me. I shot him an unamused sneer, then turned back to my mother.  
  
"'She can't go ballistic over the first boy she sees' was his final testament."  
  
Perhaps difficult, perhaps not; I wasn't exactly focused on guys at this point and time, anyway. I wanted to actually *live* through this so that eventually I maybe could go ballistic!  
  
I grinned. "He has himself a deal."  
  
A/N: Well, here's my first chapter, persay. I hope it's more understandable from my prologue. A big thank you to KT the Shimmer Skank and sup3r-manz- bitch for my first reviews! I'm sorry if I've confused you at first, but hopefully, this chapter explains it a little more for you. Until then - Arrivederci! 


	3. Chapter Two

*A/N: Wow! I'm getting some great reviews here. Thanks, everyone! I really appreciate it. Special thank you's to funky pink high top, musicsdream, and Lizzard Liz for greatly supporting my story! Seriously - I never thought it would be this good. (LOL!) Well, here's Chapter Two for you; enjoy! Ciao for now_*Deanna  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter Two  
  
It would seem naive to expect warmth from a person who refused to see her own grandchildren. Now that I thought about it, the meaning of my dream the night before was pretty obvious, even the feeling that something was not right. The door to my mother's family had always been closed to me; when you're locked out for fifteen years, you can't help but wonder what you're walking into.  
  
"Lizzie? David? You've made it!" the stocky woman gloated, crumpling up a papered sign with our names written on it. Her large green eyes were full of excitement, and I knew that I liked her right away.  
  
Surprisingly, yet suddenly, she hugged Gordo and I both while saying, "I'm Virginia, but people call me Ginny." She turned towards me. "I'm your mother's best old friend. I guess you've figured that out already."  
  
When Ginny had heard that Gordo and I were coming, she insisted on meeting us at the airport close to Baltimore. She happily took our suitcases, one in each arm, and escorted us to her car. Well, I wouldn't really call it a car, persay. It was an ancient offgreen station wagon, full of clothes and antiques and shoes that she'd collected for the vintage store she ran in Wisteria.  
  
Gordo glanced at me with amusement, leaning in and whispering with a soft voice of re-assurance, "I know that this trip won't be as bad as you throw it out to be. I promise."  
  
It was something in his voice that made me feel as if he knew something that I didn't. Something secret. Maybe I was just imaginging things. But his voice, it had suddenly made me feel like I was in another world . .  
  
"I hope you don't mind the smell of mothballs," Ginny said, breaking up the clutter in my thoughts.  
  
"No problem," Gordo and I unisoned.  
  
"How about the smell of a car burning oil?" she asked.  
  
"That's okay, too," I replied. It was amazing. Gordo and I were making our way into the back seat of a clustered station wagon, with the smells of burning oil and mothballs, and already I felt at home.  
  
As Ginny began driving, she handed Gordo and I a map so we could follow our progress towards Wisteria, which was on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. While we were reading over the map, which practically took both mine and Gordo's seat space, Ginny piped up.  
  
"Hey, now, we could always open these windows here if the fumes get too strong for you."  
  
She tried unrolling her front window, which looked pretty difficult because of the mandatory operating instead of the automatic you would find in newer cars. Ginny's station wagon was definitely far from new. "Of course, the muffler's near gone."  
  
That was the first time that I'd noticed her southern accent. Not too fluent, yet, her way of speaking made me laugh inside. I could tell that she definitely had an enjoyable sense of humor.  
  
Gordo, for the first time in hours, spoke up, detecting to Ginny, "I'm getting curious. I've seen a few photos of the Scarborough House from an old photo album of Lizzie's with her mother when she was younger. What's it like?"  
  
Where did that come from? Sure, I was curious too, but I didn't expect someone like Gordo to ask a question like that. Why was he so interested all of a sudden? And why haven't *I* seen those pictures before?  
  
Ginny grinned. "Well, what has Lizzie told you?"  
  
"Not much. It's in a deserted area and it has a back wing. It's old."  
  
"That's about it," Ginny said.  
  
"Oh, and it's haunted," I added half-heartedly.  
  
Gordo placed the map ontop of our laps and shot me a look of bewilderment. I was only joking, but I wanted to see if Ginny was really paying any attention. I sure knew that Gordo was.  
  
"People say that," she replied. Her tone became monotonous, and it weirded me out a little. Come on, Ginny! I was only joking. You have to be joking, too.  
  
Right?  
  
"Well, Lizzie, every shore house has its little ghost stories. Just make sure you two turn on the lights if it gets too spooky."  
  
Gordo and I slapped eachother a genuine high-five. I had a feeling that this trip would be more interesting than I'd thought. 


	4. Chapter Three

A/N: Morbidity: Thank you so much for your review! It truly meant a lot to me; especially with all of those 'really's, lol. I suppose I do foreshadow a bit too much, but in some cases, I need to, to make Gordo and Lizzie's surroundings easier to understand. I'm sorry for the late update, everyone! I've had a hectic couple of weeks; my grandmother was in the hospital and all, so I've been quite busy. Anyway, here's Chapter Three; ENJOY! Ciao for now_Deanna  
  
P.S.- The Lizzie McGuire Movie was absolutely awesome!! *Claps* ^_^  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter Three  
  
If you were traveling up the Chesapeake Bay, you would enter a big and wide river mouth of the Sycamore and head in a northeasterly direction. One the right, you would see a large creek named Wist, and the creek that was up a little more was called Oyster. Wisteria sits between them, nearly surrounded by water.  
  
Honestly, I couldn't understand a word that Gordo was saying. He was smart, though, so I gave myself credit for at least understanding that. I'd wondered how he learned so much about Wisteria, when I could hardly even spell the damned name. Where does Gordo keep all of that useless-but- valuable-at-the-same-time information at? No one's brain could possibly be large enough; or could it? Perhaps Gordo was special in that way. He was special in many ways, and in traveling with him during these long, tiring three hours in Ginny's sation wagon, I was beginning to realize a new side of Gordo that I have never seen before.  
  
As if reading my mind, Ginny boasted, "My, what an extended learning criteria you have in that brain of yours, David!"  
  
Gordo sighed. "Thanks. It sort of runs in my family."  
  
I wish it ran in my family, I thought meekly. Of course, my parents were very intelligent people; it was Matt I was worried about. But I didn't want to think about an agitating brother right now. All that I wanted to do was curl up in the trunk of Ginny's station wagon and promise myself never to come out.  
  
"Ginny," I started, summoning the will that was left inside of me to finish, "what's Grandmother like?"  
  
Ginny let out a tiny sneeze, then countered with, "Uh, well, she's different. Can't argue with her being different, that's for sure."  
  
"Different how?" Gordo asked, seeming ever-so-surprisingly interested in our conversation once more.  
  
Ginny laughed. "You two don't live in a small neighborhood, do you?"  
  
Gordo and I shook our heads, even though Ginny couldn't see us through her dusty rear view mirror. "Well, it's like a real big family living inside one house. They can be helpful at times, and then they can be real nasty to eachother for no apparent reason at all. That personality fits your grandmother. Greatly."  
  
She still hadn't answered Gordo's question on how she was different from the rest of the Wisteria residents, but I did come to one conclusion: she was not the town's all around favorite.  
  
"Hey, look, there's my shop! Laterdaze," Ginny gleamed, pointing her meaty finger out the window. "I just love vintage."  
  
I laughed nervously. We came to a small dirt path that wound into a private road. As we neared a section of double-rowed trees, I saw traces of sloping grey roofs and cement chimneys; four to be exact.  
  
"This driveway will loop into the back wing of the house," Ginny said. "It's huge; you can't miss it."  
  
Now that I was finally here, I looked forward on spending two weeks with a relative that I could never really relate to at all. How much of a nightmare could a little old woman be?  
  
Ginny circled the house and parked in the front. As Gordo made his way through the boxes and the vintage clothes, he circled around to Ginny's window.  
  
"Thanks, Ginny, for driving us."  
  
I couldn't pay attention to him. I couldn't pay attention to anything at that moment. I dropped my suitcases in shock as I stood near the door. That door. This house.  
  
It was the one in my dreams; and this time, the door swung wide open. 


	5. Chapter Four

A/N: Morbidity: Wow! I'm truly touched by your reviews; you're awesome! :D I won't get discouraged if no one else says anything - your paragraphs will get me going for sure! Although, I like long reviews - I like hearing what people think of my story. Speaking of my story, I was currently in Baltimore, near the Chesapeake Bay; I was thinking of some ideas while I was there, and surprisingly, I came up with some! I'd made a few errors in chapter three, but it's all fixed! :D *Kills typos* Anyway, keep 'em coming, Morbidity! Thanks again. ^____^ *Hug*  
  
P.S. - Did I mention how awesome the Lizzie McGuire Movie was? It totally crashed the thought of my story happening in the same summer, but hey, that's the beauty of fiction! ^_^  
  
Okay, let the story go on!  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
"Well, what do you want?" a seemingly large woman asked. I hadn't pictured Grandmother looking like this. Had it even been her? No, it couldn't be. This woman's hair was red, with a touch of an old peroxide job on the tips of her split ends.  
  
"I'm," I stammered, correcting myself as I turned to Gordo, "*we* are here to see Mrs. Scarborough. I'm her granddaughter." I glanced at Gordo once more, who was staring at the woman with widened eyes. My voice had sounded like a young child's; timid, and meak.  
  
I hadn't noticed Ginny's eyes watching Gordo and I, and when I saw her trot up to the door, her presence threw me back in surprise.  
  
"Evan, this is Lizzie, Mrs. Scarborough's granddaughter; and this is her friend, David."  
  
Three words came out of her mouth.  
  
"One moment, please."  
  
Boy, what a talkative, energetic older woman.  
  
..Who am I kidding here?  
  
Without propositioning another sentence, Evan scooped up our bags in her bulky arms and quietly shut the door in front of us. How kind, I thought. I already felt at home.  
  
"That's Evan, Mrs. Scarborough's housemaid. She comes in four times a week to cook and clean for her, since she's getting up there in age," Ginny explained.  
  
"Is she always this friendly?" Gordo asked.  
  
"I'm afraid so, dear," Ginny implied.  
  
The door swung open again, more gently this time, and Evan led Gordo and I down a long corridor hallway. Ginny called out to us, 'You know where to find me!', and quietly shut the door without Evan noticing. She stopped at a nearby doorway and knocked. A few moments passed by, and after she had returned to us, she stood in the hallway with her hands clasped together, staring, as if we were somewhat of an inconvenience to look at.  
  
"Will you and your friend be sharing a bed, or will you two have separate rooms?"  
  
Gordo couldn't help but stifle a laugh. Me, sharing a bed with Gordo? My mother wouldn't even let him sleep in the same room as Miranda and I when we had sleepovers. The thought had almost killed me with amusement, and yet, in a way, it almost scared me as well. Did I even want to go there?  
  
Of course not.  
  
Neither Gordo nor I answered. I guessed that he was waiting for me to say something, as I was waiting for him. Finally, we echoed in unison, "Separate rooms."  
  
A/N: I know, I know. You're probably thinking, 'You inconsiderate excuse- for-a-writer! Why isn't this chapter longer, hm? HM?' It's storming here. Pretty bad, too. *Ahem* Anyway, I wanted to get a chapter uploaded before the day was done, so I'd decided to make this one just a little bit shorter, for the time being, of course. Don't worry, though. I'll make the chapters longer as the story goes on. I really do hope you like it so far! *. Reviews = My undying gratitude! :D .*  
  
P.S.- You don't have to say it; I know that my story is going about 100 miles below the speed limit, but I PROMISE, it'll get going a lot faster. Soon.  
  
Very soon. 


	6. Chapter Five

A/N: Hey, everyone! Well, yeah, here's another chapter for you! And, as promised, it's a lot longer than my last one I've done. Also, I've made a few minor changes in all of my recent chapters. Nothing huge, but just some things for the readers who've just started reading my story. I've just realized something, too; almost none of my chapters have disclaimers! So, here goes:  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, although, I'm begging Disney like crazy . .  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter Five  
  
Gordo and I stood there together in the doorway, uneasy, and suddenly unsure. Evan carried both of our suitcases down the hall. She called to us, "Well, aren't you going to follow me to your rooms?"  
  
How welcoming. After walking down endless hallways for what seemed like hours, Evan stopped at two isolated doors that were spread about three feet apart away from eachother.  
  
"These are the rooms where you two will be staying in. Make yourselves comfortable, and make sure that you *do not* go nibbing around in these hallways; they're off-limits."  
  
Why doesn't she just make this whole house off-limits for us? Evan studied Gordo and I for a brief moment, but then shortly after, she began walking away from us, making her way down the long corridor halls.  
  
I stood by my door, wondering what would happen if I just waited here. Who would give in first? Me, or Helen Scarborough? I was trembling inside, and the only thing I knew that could make me feel better was-  
  
A hand? It was Gordo's hand whom I'd brushed against. Surprisingly, I felt him return the favor by intertwining his fingers with mine, smiling.  
  
"Come on, Lizzie. It'll be all right. If you get scared, you know where to find my, uh, room. ."  
  
I managed a small but greatful smile. Good old Gordo. He always knew how to make a person like me feel better.  
  
I could feel his hand still laced with mine. It was a great feeling, actually. It was like a wave of electricity running against the lining of my body. What was wrong with me? Was I still nervous about staying inside of this house?  
  
Or was it something . . more?  
  
Gordo tilted my chin up so I was facing his eyes, and it was then that I had realized that my head was turned down. You know, in this dimmed lighting, it was almost unbelieveable that Gordo had blue eyes.  
  
"Are you going to be all right?" he asked, oblivious to the fact that I was staring.  
  
I quickly broke my gaze. "I'll be fine, really. But if I do happen to get scared, you know who'll be knocking on your door."  
  
Gordo re-assured me with a nod and carried his suitcases into his room. Lucky for him -  
  
He hadn't noticed that I was still staring.  
  
A/N: Ahh . . poor Lizzie; she's so confused! I just wanted to add a tiny bit o' cliff for those L/G fans out there . . let me know how the fifth chapter came out! ^___^ 


	7. Chapter Six

A/N: Hey, everyone! Another update to my story; sorry I'm taking so long with my chapters; my brain is now in 'summer mode', since the end of the school year is almost through (High five for that!).  
  
Orangeblossom Hardbottle: Thanks a bunch for your review! I'm really glad you like my story.  
  
P.S.- Yes, the Lizzie McGuire Movie had a *great* ending! *claps* I've been waiting for that stupid kiss since "Dear Lizzie" . . :D :D  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, although, I'm begging Disney like crazy . .  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter Six  
  
"Elizabeth."  
  
That voice. It sounded so low and so firm, like it was used to being obeyed. My eyes fluttered open to see an older woman hovered over my bed with a breakfast tray in hand. I sat up, took a good look at her, and my grogginess had suddenly ceased when I saw that face staring back at me.  
  
That face. It was just like gazing into my mother's, yet, this woman's eyes were grey and alone, and her hair was longer and more aged. Still blonde, though, and it was tied into an almost perfect bun in the back of her head. I knew right away that it was Helen Scarborough.  
  
Grandmother.  
  
I could feel her eyes glance about me, and it was making me uncomfortable. My feet were entangled in the covers, so I decided not to make any sudden movements.  
  
"Why have you slept with your clothes on? Didn't Evan show you where the evening undergarments were?"  
  
Oh, so *that* was why she was looking at me strangely. I didn't even remember falling asleep. "The only things that she'd shown me yesterday were my room and Gor-"  
  
I corrected myself, "David's."  
  
It felt so weird saying Gordo's real name. 'David'. No, I definitely liked the name Gordo better. I shuddered at the thought.  
  
'David'.  
  
Again I could feel her wary eyes staring at me. It felt like Helen Scarborough was counting every single thread of hair in my head, every piece of fabric on my body -  
  
Every single thought in my mind.  
  
She set down the breakfast tray and placed her hand under her chin.  
  
"You have . . the most unusual coloring . ."  
  
So what? My skin refused to tan. I had no problem with that. I decided not to reply to her comment. Instead, I finally gathered the strength to get out of bed. Standing next to Helen Scarborough made me feel small.  
  
Her height surprised me. She had to be about three inches taller, but even still, I fought to meet her grey eyes steadily.  
  
"You may sit down," she replied.  
  
"I'd like to stand, if you don't mind. I've been sitting for nearly two days."  
  
There was an awkward pause as she seated herself in one of the room's chairs, nodding. "Just don't pace, please."  
  
After she'd said that, I actually *did* have a sudden urge to pace, but I kept my resistence and stood in front of her with almost nothing to say.  
  
"How is your mother doing?" she finally asked.  
  
You would know if you'd answer some of her letters, I thought angrily. Who did this woman think she was? Even so, I answered her in the politest of my voice.  
  
"She's doing good- *Well*", I corected my grammar. "She's a great mother."  
  
"And your brother?" she added.  
  
Well, I guess Matt had been wrong there; she *did* acknowledge the fact that she had a grandson. I loved it when he was wrong.  
  
"Matt, who's twelve, lives for ruining my life and causing chaos. But . . he's a great kid, a great brother, and I love him. And Dad's doing great, too-"  
  
"Please answer only the questions I propose to you, Elizabeth-"  
  
"Call me Lizzie. Please? Elizabeth sounds too . . uhm . ." I was fumbling for the right word.  
  
"Asenine."  
  
"I see," and with that, Helen Scarborough stood from her seat. "Well, your breakfast is here. When you're through, change your clothes, and have your friend come downstairs with you. You two will see the bottom floor first."  
  
Apparently 'Would you like to?' wasn't part of her daily vocabulary.  
  
"How did you know that David was coming with me?" I asked, completely out- of-the-blue, hoping that she didn't sense the cringe in my voice when I'd said 'David'.  
  
Almost indistinctly as she sounded, her voice was cold and alone when she replied,  
  
"She wrote me a letter."  
  
As she neared my door, I asked another question.  
  
"What am I supposed to call you?"  
  
"I'd appreciate it if you'd just call me 'Grandmother' . . Elizabeth."  
  
And with that, she opened the door and walked out of the room.  
  
A/N: How did you like this chapter? It's probably the longest one that I've written so far, but have no fear! Gordo *will be* in the next chapter. Review, review, review! Greatly appreciated. Tell me how this chappie came out! :D 


	8. Chapter Seven

A/N: Hi, guys! Thanks to tawny and psychoticbarbie for my latest reviews! I love you all! *Hug* :D If anyone ever wants to talk, my AOL screen name is NyC DrEaMeR o7. Hope you guys like my next chapter! And, as I promised, there's going to be a lot more Gordo than Chapter Six. Enjoy! ^___^  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Lizzie McGuire, but I'm begging Disney like crazy . .  
  
Dark Secrets: A Legacy Of Lies  
  
Chapter Seven  
  
I gazed after her as she shut the door. My stomach'd been stuck inside my throat the whole damned time, I was surprised that I hadn't had a heart attack while speaking to her. Glancing to the left, I began to wonder if Gordo could hear me through these isolated walls.  
  
I walked over to one of the room's corners, the one that crossed Gordo's staying, and made three soft knocks, making sure that no one else would hear, that was, *if* they could. I only hoped that Gordo was there, listening.  
  
Silence replied to me.  
  
I grew disappointed. Gordo wasn't there to see me act brave for once and place my fears aside. That was probably the only time I would do such a thing, and my best friend wasn't there to see it; *or* hear it. For all I know, he's probably still sleeping, dreaming about home and how good it is compared to being here with me. I knew I shouldn't of drug him into coming with me; but he did agree on it, did he not?  
  
I began to wonder something else just then; was there anything that Gordo *wouldn't* do for me? I certainly do owe him a lot after this trip; hell, I'll probably end up becoming his slave until I'm 80. Maybe it won't be so bad, though. Maybe after this trip I could finally tell him -  
  
"Lizzie?"  
  
A face peaked inside my door. It was Gordo; and he *wasn't* asleep! But by telling from the expression plastered on his face, I knew right away that something was wrong.  
  
"I wanted to talk to you about something, Lizzie . ."  
  
I decided to tell him anyway. "I do, too. Grandmother came into my room this morning-"  
  
"That's who it's about, Lizzie. It's about your grandmother - and her sister."  
  
Her sister? Mom never told me that her own mother had a sister; then again, maybe she knew just as much as I did about Grandmother, even though she'd lived with her during childhood.  
  
"My grandmother has a sister?" I asked begrudgingly. Gordo nodded solemnly, taking my hand into his. Without speaking, he quietly led me into his room so that Evan, who was dusting the old grandfather clock at the other end of the hallway, wouldn't see us.  
  
After shutting the door behind us, Gordo ran to a drawer beside his bed. He opened it up and held what looked like an old fashioned photo to his chest. I could see the tiny writing in the back of the picture, scribbled in fine cursive: Avril and Helen Scarborough - ages 16 and 18.  
  
Avril Scarborough. Why did that name sound so vaguely familiar?  
  
"I don't want to scare you," Gordo warned. "I couldn't help wandering, Lizzie, and I found this picture of your grandmother with, I'm almost positive, her sister. But the thing is . ." Gordo stopped dead in his tracks.  
  
"What, Gordo?" I asked. "What can't you say?"  
  
Gordo handed me the photo in a slow manner. "Take a look for yourself and you'll see," he replied.  
  
So I did; and needless to say, I could understand why Gordo couldn't finish the rest of his sentence. There, sitting in that same time-stricken picture with my grandmother, was ME! But that was impossible; it couldn't of been me. I wasn't even thought of at that time. Perhaps this young woman, Avril, hadn't had the same *exact* genetic makeup as I, but our appearances to eachother were uncanny! She had longer, darker flowing hair than I did, and her eyes were a lot lighter, almost a misty seafoam color, but our facial structures looked exactly the same.  
  
"She's pretty," Gordo tortled. "Without her grey eyes and dark hair, she'd look just like-"  
  
" . . Me," I finished automatically. "Gordo, what does this mean?"  
  
"We'll just have to find that out, now, won't we?" he countered with a sly grin.  
  
And so it began. Gordo and I had started an investigation that would change our lives forever. 


End file.
